


Acceptance

by Missyhissy3



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 04:17:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11913045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missyhissy3/pseuds/Missyhissy3
Summary: Set several weeks Post-Endgame; After visiting the monument on Tevlik's moon, en route back to Earth in Chakotay's shuttle, the Alpha Flyer, Janeway and Chakotay talk. And the following morning, Janeway meets and old friend of Chakotay's.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First three chapters were posted in 2014 on ffn. I added a fourth chapter in 2016.
> 
> Original Author's note:  
> Disclaimer: Characters obviously not mine. Copyright: Paramount/Christie Goldberg 'Homecoming'.
> 
> It is the evening of the day they visited the monument on Tevlik's moon, commemorating the 4256 men, women and children wiped out by the Cardassian orchestrated attack on this Maquis safe-haven. My scene takes place where Goldberg leaves off in chapter 7 of her novel 'Homecoming' after they've visited the monument. The second part of my Chapter 2 follows the events she describes for Voyager's homecoming banquet. Having said that, it's certainly not necessary to have read her novel to follow this.
> 
> The events in this story clear the way for my story 'A Whole lot of Nothing'. I started this one ages ago, but the other one kind of finished itself first. This story is the main course, that one is a fluffy dessert.
> 
> Thanks to Photogirl1890 for answering my plea on VAMB for help with spotting typos. Much appreciated. 10/2/14

Acceptance

Day 3 of Trip to Tevlik's Moon

Their empty plates had been pushed to one side, and they sat facing each other across the small table in the living area of the shuttle, each cradling a drink.

They had shared their thoughts about the day and about the monument itself and all it represented, and the conversation had taken them to places they'd never been before in all their seven years of quiet dinners.

Kathryn was staggered by how much he'd held back from her before, and by just how woefully incomplete to say the very least, the received Starfleet analysis of the Maquis and their strategies had been. Even taking into account some of the revisions and concessions that Starfleet Command had made in recent years, when relations with the Cardassians deteriorated and the Maquis had been exonerated, it was amazing how the reality of Chakotay's experience differed from, and at times directly contradicted, the version of events she had been fed at the time.

Furious with herself for having accepted Starfleet's version of events too willingly, she found now that she was also furious with herself for having been content to allow Chakotay to be so evasive on the few occasions that she had actually tried to ask him about that part of his life. Only now was it clear just how many partial answers he had supplied and how much he had simply left out.

She had respected his right to privacy and had presumed that he had wished to avoid reliving in the telling of them, events that were undoubtedly painful. Once he agreed to join her crew and embrace Starfleet values again, it'd been reasonable to assume that he would be keen to leave his earlier life behind and move on. He'd always seemed most comfortable in the present; he didn't seem like someone who spent much time looking back.

Now, suddenly, his attitude couldn't have been more different. The hours they'd spent down on the moon seemed to have completely dismantled the floodgates that must have been holding back his memories. As she listened, she discovered that during the short time he had been a Maquis captain, he'd had several lifetimes' worth of experiences; experiences she knew absolutely nothing about.

She was fast losing the sense of complacency she'd had about how well she knew the man sitting opposite her across the little table. All of a sudden the first three days travelling to Tevlik seemed like a different trip completely, severed from this new present by the time spent down on the desolate moon's surface. The more he recounted, the more she found herself thinking back, again and again, to the man who had materialised on her bridge seven years earlier.

Particularly shocking was the revelation of the sheer number of members of his cell who had been killed in the months prior to her following his ship into the Badlands. When he'd begun to describe these events, she'd sat in stunned silence for several minutes, unable to formulate any sort of sensible response. It was a wonder he could still remember their names; some of them had been with him for mere days.

Until that moment, he had only ever talked of it in general terms. The three-day trip from Earth to Tevlik had followed that similar pattern. Since leaving the surface of the moon in the late afternoon, however, things seemed to have undergone some sort of fundamental shift and he seemed willing to talk individuals and specifics. His habitual reticence had evaporated completely, as he directed and dominated the flow of their conversation, turning their routine manner of interaction on its head. His mind seemed to be taking an inventory of his life in the Maquis and its significance and he seemed intent on sharing it with her.

The conditions he described in some of the outlying colonies – communities that had found themselves suddenly isolated and vulnerable when the demarcation of the demilitarised zone had been announced – were truly shocking. As were the conditions he had witnessed when his cell had liberated people from the 'displacement' camps the Cardassians had been responsible for. Hearing this from another source, perhaps it would have been possible to be sceptical - to dismiss it as exaggeration. But not coming from Chakotay. He was more prone to omission or understatement than to exaggeration.

"If Starfleet Command had known about the conditions in those camps the Cardassians were responsible for, about the brutality you describe, then…" she trailed off, feeling uneasy even as she spoke these words. "They didn't know, did they?"

He didn't reply. As she studied his face, everything she needed to know was there in his eyes already. Of course they'd known. He'd told them. Others like him had told them too, but such knowledge had been inconvenient.

The ground shifted a little beneath her again as the unpalatable taste of her own naivety made her slightly nauseous for a moment. Was it naivety? Or was it sub-conscious collusion?

He didn't seem to be surprised by her reaction. Did he think of her as someone who was particularly naive – too accepting of received opinions, not enough of a free thinker? Surely not. Surely she'd always maintained a healthy scepticism when it came to dealing with any large institution, Starfleet included.

She stood, her mind still off balance, to get them both another drink. She had found out more about his life in the last few hours than she had in the previous three days, perhaps even in the last seven years.

His seemingly painless transformation from Maquis captain back to Starfleet officer was all the more surprising now. He had agreed without hesitation to her suggestion that they combine the crews, and that had been more than enough at the time, given how traumatic that whole period had been for her. Once he'd accepted, she hadn't spent time reflecting on what his particular anxieties about the situation might have been.

Now, it was truly puzzling. How had he squared it with his conscience?

She passed him his tea and sat back down opposite him. "How did you feel when you became part of a Starfleet crew again? When you agreed to  _lead_ a Starfleet crew again?"

"There was no choice there for us, for me, you knew that. So I did what I had to."

"But it was difficult?"

"In some ways, yes. But I was lucky in other ways, wasn't I?"

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't have to report to Starfleet Command again."

"You mean because of our isolation?"

"Yes, that was part of it, but it was mainly because there was only  _you_. And that wasn't hard. You've always had my respect."

"Almost always."

"No. Always."

"Do you mean to say you didn't actually embrace Starfleet's principles again at that time? You just did what was expedient?"

He sighed. He looked so tired, so utterly weary.

"It was never a question of embracing anything  _again._  I'd never rejected Starfleet's principles; I rejected Command's failure to honour them, to apply them in practice. Your destruction of the array demonstrated to me that you weren't afraid to make the sorts of decisions that Command had balked at. I followed you out there, Kathryn, not them. Surely you realised that?"

Something in his dark eyes drew her in and she understood. Finally.

Surprising as it might seem to him, she hadn't actually realised before that it had been her decision to destroy the array that had secured his cooperation and his respect. Had she done so, it might have helped her chip away more effectively at the weighty burden of guilt she'd carried for seven years as a result of that decision.

Her ego was not sufficiently large for her to have attributed his cooperation to his respect for her, and her alone. Federation Diplomats' and Starfleet Command's under-reporting of the truly complex dynamics of the conflict he had just left behind in the Alpha Quadrant had meant that she had underestimated the depth of his disillusionment with the organisation. As a consequence, she had presumed that he had been willing to pledge his allegiance once again, without significant hesitation. It simply hadn't occurred to her that his assessment of her as an individual had been a deciding factor.

Also, when it came to the specifics of the events on Tevlik's moon and of the erecting of the monument itself, all had not been as she'd imagined. The monument had been erected by Sveta and surviving members of the Maquis; Kathryn had presumed it had been Starfleet's doing.

Apparently not.

He told her flatly that Starfleet had yet to get around to commemorating these dead. Surely they would do soon? He seemed unconvinced. Starfleet's neglect in this was shocking.

It was also shocking to be told that the number of dead included a large number of families; women and children who had made the supposed safe-haven their home. Apparently it hadn't been an exclusively military installation.

In the fourth year of their journey in the Delta Quadrant, when they had first re-established contact with the Alpha Quadrant, Chakotay's first letter had been from Sveta. When many other crewmembers had received letters of relief and delight from loved ones who'd presumed the worst, he had received news from Sveta of the massacre, which represented the near annihilation of the remaining Maquis, and he had had to tell his crew. He had told Kathryn about it in very general terms at the time. He had seemed more comfortable talking to her about her own letter. She knew that he and B'Elanna had lost close friends, but she had never realised quite how many until now.

Neither had she realised how close Chakotay had come to being among them. He explained that if he hadn't been hiding in the Badlands that day, he would have been operating out of this base and his name would undoubtedly have been among those inscribed on the solitary standing stone of this monument. The same could be said for the other Maquis members of  _Voyager's_  crew.

A memory of something he'd once said to her on  _Voyager_ , after she'd played him a communiqué from Admiral Hayes, came to the forefront of her mind. Hayes had enquired after 'the status' of the Maquis.

"I don't think of you, or B'Elanna or the others as Maquis. I think of you as part of my crew."

"You may have forgotten, but we haven't," he had replied.

At the time, it had jarred slightly with her. She'd felt foolish for a moment, uncomfortable, but had fast dismissed it as insignificant. Now, it seemed like it had been a rare, candid moment she should have taken more notice of.

Visiting the site of the monument had proved emotionally draining, as revelation after revelation eroded her sense of wellbeing. What on earth must it have been like for him?

He expressed surprise at just how completely isolated the monument was – no sign whatsoever that there had ever been a base, a settlement of any kind at all. It seemed the Cardassians had held fast to their scorched-earth policy; they'd been as efficient in their destruction here as they had been on his homeworld. He said he hadn't expected to recognise nothing, not even the shape of the landscape.

They waited for their drinks to cool, and she was just about to ask him about how he was finding life back in the Alpha Quadrant, when he began to volunteer information. He said he was finding it hard. He told her of his uncertainties about accepting Starfleet's offer to reinstate him.

This was a disappointing blow. She realised she'd been presuming he would accept. After everything he'd shared with her that evening, his hesitation made so much sense now, and hearing him explain his reservations filled her anew with admiration for how he was handling all this uncertainty in his life; handling it like he did pretty much everything, on his own. That was something to address with him soon. Soon, but not now. This really wasn't the right time.

He'd invited her here though, and he was talking to her. A lot. That was surely evidence of something.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

They talked late into the evening and eventually parted when Chakotay said he wanted to take a shower. He seemed restless, unusually charged somehow, but Kathryn felt drained and welcomed the respite from their intense conversation.

In her little cabin, she showered and changed into a plain knee-length nightgown and slipped on her wrap-over robe to go refill her coffee cup. She expected to find him in the kitchen area, but he wasn't there. Back in her cabin, she shed her robe and got into the bed to read for a while. It was impossible to concentrate for more than a line or two.

Chakotay had said he hadn't made any definite plans beyond this trip yet, but it was very likely the immediate future would take him away from Earth, possibly for an extended period of time.

He would want to go see his sister, that was certain. Very soon, if not immediately upon their return, he would probably be leaving to see the rebuilding of the colony on his homeworld. He would likely spend months there, reconnecting with any family or friends who had survived. If he was unsure whether to accept the commission he'd been offered, he might well decide that his homeworld was where he wanted to stay, at least while he considered his options. Those working in the reconstruction programme would be delighted to have someone of his abilities and experience. Even his minor celebrity status could be an asset they might be able to exploit to aid the project. He might have a few friends on Earth, but he had no close relatives, apart from his cousin in Ohio. Unless of course there were more things he'd omitted to mention…

How would their friendship withstand a prolonged separation?

She thought back to the moment when she had first come to the realisation that she wasn't ready to watch him walk out of her life. It had been at the Homecoming Banquet, only days after their return, before the dust from their explosive re-entry into life in the Alpha Quadrant had even had a chance to settle.

XxX

The Homecoming Banquet: three weeks earlier

For the first part of the evening Kathryn had been completely occupied with her mother and her sister. Nothing had prepared her for how it felt to be engulfed in their joint embrace. She'd rarely allowed herself to contemplate what it would have been like to accept that she would never see them again. It would've been like closing down a part of herself.

As she held tightly onto them both, almost desperately at first, she had felt optimistic. Now she would be able to regain access to the full width, depth and breadth of her own personality. She would learn to integrate her experiences in the Delta Quadrant into the continuity of her life as a whole, and achieve some perspective on the past seven years. She would be a more rounded human being again, with their support and their laughter and their love.

And God how they'd laughed! After they'd cried of course.

There wasn't anyone in all the four quadrants who would ever be able to make her laugh the way her sister could. How could they? In so many ways they were polar opposites, but Phoebe's wicked sense of humour was so refreshing. To finally be able to speak freely, without having to worry whether observations were unprofessional, unjustified, unwise or un-anything! What an absolute joy! It was also true, however, that there weren't many people who could get under her skin and provoke her the way her sister could. Hopefully the years had rounded some of her sister's sharper edges...

Chakotay had arrived on his own. His surviving family had not yet been able to make the trip to Earth. He had spent the first part of the evening with some of his crew and a small group of guests, who must also have been former Maquis. Central to this group was a tall, slim, stunningly beautiful woman with almost translucent skin. This must be Sveta, the woman who had been his lover when he was a young man at the Academy, and who had later recruited him into the Maquis. The woman fitted the description B'Elanna had given of her years ago, and it wasn't exactly difficult to identify her, as distinctive looking as she was. The attention of everyone in the small group seemed to be fixed on her; her direct gaze was fixed on Chakotay.

The only other time early evening that Chakotay had caught Kathryn's attention had been when she had been only half-listening to the Doctor prattling away beside her. Chakotay had been in a corner of the ballroom, having what had looked like a very intense conversation with Seven, who had only arrived a few moments before that with the Doctor.

Seven was clearly upset and trying to explain something to Chakotay. Everything about her body language screamed of her discomfort and her desire to re-establish some distance between them. From Chakotay's expression as Seven spoke, he looked resigned, deflated. They exchanged a few more words and he seemed to collect himself.

Kathryn watched as he lifted his hand towards Seven's face and gently caressed her cheek. There was certainly tenderness there, but his caress also seemed to have a finality to it. A gesture of closure?

After a few minutes, Seven had simply walked off and left him standing on his own. Whatever had transpired between them, it didn't look like he had been the driving force behind it. He looked tired and lost.

Chakotay and Seven. The body blow it had been when Admiral Janeway had said that he would one day be Seven's husband. It had left Kathryn momentarily winded. The events that followed having been as chaotic and dramatic as they were, there had been no time to examine further what this strong reaction to the news of their relationship really meant. Those feelings had had to be pushed down and closed off, as it had been necessary to scale the mountain of issues that had erupted as a result of their unexpected return.

It hadn't been until late in the evening at the banquet that she was no longer able to avoid some of those feelings.

After the formal promotions and the banquet, there had been dancing.

Kathryn had been in demand right from the very first dance. Admiral Paris had insisted she take to the floor with him, in front of everyone, immediately the music had started up. Smiling her most radiant smile, she had embraced the moment for what it was. It had actually been enjoyable, being guided round the floor by Paris senior; he was an experienced and relatively skilful dancer for a man of his years and stature.

The Doctor had been her next partner, followed by several others, until she found herself accepting Tom Paris's hand as he asked her if she'd take her chances with Paris Junior, making some quip about her having to promise not to entertain any expectations that he could dance this sort of dance anywhere near as well as his father.

"I'm in need of a partner, since your former first officer has stolen my lovely wife, as you can see."

He motioned towards B'Elanna, dancing with Chakotay on the other side of the room. Chakotay was guiding her through a series of gentle moves, in a very subdued fashion, holding her as if she were made of porcelain. A week after having given birth, B'Elanna was doing well to still be up at this hour at all.

Tom caught B'Elanna's eye, and it looked as if something passed between them. Tom steered them over towards the other couple and B'Elanna said something to Chakotay. He looked over towards Tom and Kathryn as they approached.

"Captain, I mean  _Admiral_ ," B'Elanna began, "I need my husband back now. I'm done for the evening, Tom, I need to get back to my little one. This big one's all yours, Admiral; he's driving me crazy anyway. Treating me like I'm going to break the whole damn time!"

Chakotay grinned and kissed B'Elanna on the cheek, bidding her and Tom goodnight.

He held out his hand. "Would you care to dance,  _Admiral_? See, some of us can get it right first time."

"I'd love to," she replied, accepting the offered hand.

They started to move around the dance floor and she knew they were being watched, but it had been that way all evening, so she refused to pay the feeling much attention. In any case it was high time she stopped worrying what other people thought about seeing the two of them together in pubic in any sort of close proximity. She hadn't even had time to consider what she herself thought about it for God's sake!

As they moved together around the dance floor and exchanged a few remarks about how the evening had gone so far, Kathryn wanted to ask about what she had observed earlier between him and Seven, but somehow she couldn't. Better that Seven didn't figure at all in this shared moment. And he shouldn't be made to feel as if he was obliged to explain himself.

After their initial small talk they both fell silent for a while and he pulled her closer, holding her in a way that made her feel like a woman dancing with a man, rather than a newly minted admiral socialising with her subordinate.

Surely she should feel angry with him for pulling her into a far more intimate hold, when he was supposed to be in the early stages of romantic involvement elsewhere? But, surprisingly, she didn't. She didn't care. Perhaps this intimate moment would go some way to banish her memory of standing on the bridge without him by her side, when they'd made their dramatic entrance a few days before?

The last time they had danced had been a very memorable occasion she had chosen not to think about in two years. They had been alone, and the dance had only lasted a few minutes before it had become something quite else. Here in the Starfleet Banquet hall, was possible that his mind was going back to that night in holographic Venice too? She shivered slightly as the feel of his body so close to hers evoked an even more powerful sense memory of the only kiss they had ever shared.

For a few seconds it was as if the intervening years hadn't happened, and they were back there on the holodeck. It was breath-taking how quickly the feelings associated with those memories returned as well.

"Are you alright, Kathryn?" he asked, as he must have noticed her slight shiver. Of course. He could be relied upon to notice everything.

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied, smiling up at him. "It's just beginning to really sink in," she evaded, "we're really home."

"Yes, we are. You were always going to get us home."

" _We_  were always going to get us home, you mean. As you were so fond of reminding me, it wasn't like I was ever really on my own now, was it?"

Perhaps injecting some levity would relieve some of the tension, as it had many times before. This was their way of handling their latent attraction after all. They were both well practised at holding one conversation with words, to obfuscate the underlying, untenable one that had started with a look or a simple touch.

"No, you weren't; but I don't think there's any doubt about who got us home in the end. Admiral Janeway gave her life for us. That isn't something I'm going to forget in a hurry.  _You_  got us home, Kathryn."

He wasn't playing his part. He looked directly into her eyes and the fingers of his left hand tightened their hold on her hand slightly and his thumb moved to caress the side of her finger.

She felt time collapse in on itself. The distance that had expanded between them over the last few years seemed to instantly contract, and she found herself looking into the eyes of the man she had known so well, the man she had felt so close to for so long, in the middle years of their journey.

How on earth was that possible?

For months, years even, life in the Delta quadrant had been gradually eroding layers of the feelings they had once had for each other, and she'd felt powerless to stop it. The slowly expanding distance between them had been unwelcome, but there were days when it had seemed inevitable, necessary even, given the impossibility of their situation. Just because she wouldn't let them meet their need for love, for touch, for real intimacy together, didn't negate the existence of those needs. They had both discovered that their needs had a way of asserting themselves. They had both looked and found elsewhere. And each time either of them had found, it had had consequences for their close friendship.

But then, as he looked down into her eyes and this distance contracted, some of the feelings she'd presumed had been casualties of that estrangement seemed to be alive again and flowing freely between them. He didn't even seem to be trying to dissimulate the powerful longing in his eyes.

A slower song started up and he didn't make to release her. Before she knew it, she'd allowed her temple to rest against his cheek. He responded immediately by pulling her slightly closer still, pressing his cheek gently against her skin and then turning his face a fraction to connect his lips with her forehead momentarily.

His behaviour here was so uncharacteristically demonstrative that Kathryn felt uneasy. Perhaps he was steeling himself to say goodbye to her? Perhaps he thought this was the beginning of the end of their involvement as friends, colleagues… as anything?

She suddenly felt indescribably sad, and almost clung onto him. As he continued to slowly lead her around the dance floor, her mind raced. Now, they were back. She was no longer his captain; she was no longer responsible for his life. She was finally free to renegotiate with her heart, the terms on which it would engage with him. Provided of course he still had any feelings for her and was free to pursue them. Two things that were far from certain.

Even if her intuition about the nature of the exchange she'd witnessed between him and Seven proved accurate, it didn't preclude the possibility that he still had strong, unresolved feelings for the former Borg. He might also believe he had messed things up so badly by involving himself with Seven, that his friendship with Kathryn was beyond repair.

The possibility that he could think that this was goodbye completely floored her. It was something she hadn't anticipated. She'd taken his continuing friendship for granted.

XxX

Kathryn's instincts had been right on two counts. When she called him the next day to suggest they meet up, he was inordinately pleased, surprised. It seemed like he had indeed been thinking she wouldn't want to maintain everyday contact. She had also been right about what she'd observed in the corner of the banquet hall.

They met up for lunch and over dessert he mumbled the news of the end of his brief romantic involvement with Seven, clearly embarrassed by the whole thing. That was the only time either of them referred to it. They should really have cleared the air more comprehensively, but Kathryn discovered she felt almost as uncomfortable talking about it as she imagined he did.

Surprisingly, he seemed a little nervous and over-attentive around her. It was as if he believed he needed to be on his best behaviour to gain acceptance as a friend here. Perhaps he believed that their friendship had been born of necessity alone for her, and would fall away, now she was free to reconnect with her 'real' friends? Fear of losing someone can make you cautious; and it'd be easy to underestimate how much he'd already lost.

The debriefings were nothing if not brief, and when they were over and it became clear Kathryn and Chakotay would no longer be inexorably part of each other's daily existence, they continued to seek each other out and their friendship had begun to solidify again. It was pleasing that they were on such good terms once more, but surely now was the time to finally try to explore other possibilities between them? Before their friendship became immutable... Kathryn didn't want to force the issue herself, however; she was desperate to give him back some control. She didn't want to be in charge of defining things between them any longer. It was one of a whole host of responsibilities, the sweet release from which she would relish as they dropped away.

It was impossible not to be aware, however, that every aspect of Chakotay's life was up for renegotiation; he was pretty much a stateless person right now. That level of pervasive uncertainty would be hard for even the most grounded of people to address. There just might not be enough room in his head to deal with redefining this relationship right now.

Their sudden return had obviously brought considerable challenges and uncertainties for all of the crew, there had inevitably been additional stresses for the former members of the Maquis. Kathryn had been filled with admiration for the manner in which many of them, Chakotay included, had coped with the first few days. She made herself available to anyone who needed her help, as their collective and individual fates were decided, pardons were finally issued, field commissions recognised, new positions sought and found and relatives searched for and contacted, or sometimes mourned.

So, at this time, above all else, Chakotay needed a friend with whom he could discuss the choices before him; ideally an objective friend who didn't have their own agenda with him influencing their judgment. Kathryn tried hard to be such a friend.

A week or so ago, he'd made a comment that had caught her off guard. Someone had forgotten to use her new title and he'd said,

"You'll always be 'Captain' to me."

"I hope not!" she replied immediately, but he hadn't seemed to read anything into her response. He'd just shot a friendly smile her way.

It was impossible to ignore as well, that all of the Voyagers would continue to 'enjoy' a certain celebrity status for some time. After herself and Seven, Chakotay was probably the next most identifiable crewmember. He would remain the subject, or perhaps the object, of a great deal of attention, a good proportion of it female no doubt, for some time to come.

Was she willing or able to compete in the face of literally worlds of choice? True, she still believed he had fallen in love with her once, years ago, but they had been isolated and forced together. Now they would both be faced with a wealth of possible partners and would be separated by a wealth of other commitments. He would meet other women, younger women, women with less baggage, uncomplicated women. She would meet other men. She'd already been propositioned several times in the first few weeks. If the strange correspondence she was receiving was anything to go by, Chakotay would have had several 'offers' already, and plenty of women would have found ways to demonstrate their willingness to get to know the famous reformed rebel returnee.

However, his invitation to join him on this trip, along with other invitations to lunch and dinner, meant that he did wish to keep her as a constant in his life. What was less certain now, several weeks down the line, was whether he would ever think of her as anything more than a very special, close friend.

After the initial elation on seeing her family and friends again after so long, Kathryn would have been loathe to admit it to anyone, but she was actually finding reconnecting meaningfully with them to be very complicated. Seven years is a long time, easily long enough to become an irrelevance. Friends had children now, husbands, new careers, whole new lives. Her mother was the same, but her sister was different, harder. It was a struggle to feel needed by any of them sometimes.

When she didn't see Chakotay for a couple of days, she felt his absence. Surprising herself with the need, the hunger she felt to see him. A very real hunger to see the man whose presence she had taken for granted for seven years.

As the days turned into weeks, she began to accept that her relationship with him was probably one of the most defining of her adult life. She also began to accept that if she were to allow herself to inhabit fully the feelings he inspired in her, she would probably find that she was in love with him.  _Still_ in love with him perhaps? Despite everything.

But life had already taught her that loving someone isn't always enough.

XxX

Whilst she had been lost in thought, another half hour had gone by. They'd shared a nightcap each night, before turning in, and so perhaps he'd be fixing them one tonight. She got up and pulled on her robe again to go find him.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

She padded out to look for him again. He still wasn't in the small kitchen area.

He'd gone for a shower over two hours ago now. Even if he didn't feel like sharing a nightcap tonight, it was very unlikely he'd just go to bed without saying goodnight. Perhaps he'd lain down for a few minutes and fallen asleep. It had been a draining experience for her, so God knows what it must have been like for him.

She wandered across to his cabin to say goodnight. She activated the door. He wasn't there. She called his name in case he was in the bathroom, but there was no reply. Then again, after so long, there was no way he could still be in the shower. She stood for a second. Where he could possibly be? She put her ear to the door to the tiny bathroom. It sounded as if the shower was still running. What if he'd slipped and knocked himself unconscious or something unlikely? She called his name loudly again, right outside the door. Still nothing, so she pressed the door release. It wasn't locked.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" she gasped, rooted to the spot in the doorway.

The shower was indeed still on, but he wasn't standing under it. He was seated on the solitary chair in there, bent over, elbows resting on his knees, head in his hands, shoulders shaking with unmistakable tremors, his whole body trembling as if he were caught in the aftershocks of some sort of explosion. There was a basin on the floor beside him.

As she registered his distress, her heart ached to see such a strong, private man so exposed. She felt like a voyeur, a spectator to his pain. He looked strangely beautiful, and familiar, even though she hadn't seen so much of his bronze skin since New Earth years ago. Confused by and ashamed of some of these responses, she immediately backed out of the bathroom, torn between her desire to offer help and comfort and her awareness of the need to respect his privacy.

* * *

 

It wasn't until she spoke that he became aware of her standing there and he turned towards the doorway, head still held in his hands. On registering her confusion, he quickly rubbed a hand across his face and stood, readjusting the towel around his waist as he did so. He cleared his throat, trying to summon an expression that would reassure her. If only he'd heard her come in, he would have pulled himself together before she'd had to witness this. At least he'd rinsed out the basin. He was far more embarrassed about her walking in on him obviously in pieces and nauseous than anything else.

He had been unprepared for how he would crumble, the minute he'd found himself alone. As he'd stood under the shower, eyes closed, every few minutes he'd remembered another face. Someone he hadn't thought about in years. It had hit him anew each time. He felt as angry as hell all over again, and so unspeakably sad. The futility of it all was suffocating.

He had tried to talk to her about some of it at dinner, and had come a long way with her, but he didn't honestly know if she could ever really understand. She'd never experienced anything like the life they'd had here. She was from a completely different world, quite literally. But whether or not she really understood wasn't the issue. Her presence afforded him comfort. Which was exactly why he hadn't come here alone.

Part of him suspected there might be some sort of fallout, but there wasn't any point trying to anticipate the shades of feeling this place would evoke in him. He knew now that he'd seriously underestimated how much it would affect him. Perhaps bringing her here hadn't been the right thing to do. It wouldn't be easy to admit to her just how completely this had floored him, how his coping mechanisms were failing right now.

He cleared his throat again and found his voice, "I'm-"

"I'm so sorry," she cut him off. "I shouldn't have come in. But you've been such a long time. I started to worry you might have fallen and hit your head or something improbable."

"I'm all right, really... I just hadn't expected I'd be seeing my dinner again."

"Look, I'll go and-"

"No… I'm glad you did... come to find me... I'm glad you're here, Kathryn. Wait, I'll be right out."

He reached to switch off the shower and leant over the small washbasin to splash water on his face.

"Of course, if you're sure that's what you want,' she replied, sounding uncertain.

As she retreated fully and the door closed, he called on every reserve he had to try and get himself together.

* * *

 

She took a few steps back into his tiny cabin and sat on his bunk. Just before the door release took effect, she caught him in her peripheral vision. He tossed the towel aside and pulled on some well-worn boxing shorts. A few moments later he emerged, still naked to the waist, clearly a lot more at ease with his state of undress than she was. She tried not to allow her gaze to wander as she felt the colour in her face rising.

He sat down next to her on the bed. It was hard to say which was more noticeable, the warmth or the obvious tension still rolling off him in waves.

"I'm sorry if I alarmed you," he said. "You really don't need to worry."

"Do I look worried?"

"Yes, frankly, you do. At least a little." He looked at her and smiled, already managing to produce the semblance of a more relaxed expression. "I drank a little water, and that's stayed down, so I think it's passing."

She didn't ask exactly what 'it' was. "Well, I'll admit I was a little thrown for a minute, but that's not what's important here. If you want me to go, I'll..."

He put his hand firmly on her leg to emphasise his point, "Kathryn, you're not listening. I already said I'm glad you came to find me. I don't want you to go."

"OK, I'm sorry. You're right, I'm a little distracted. I suppose today has shaken me too."

"I can understand that. It was enough to shake anyone."

They sat side by side, the quiet hum of the shuttle's engines the only noise. He ran both his hands through his wet hair. He was taking controlled, even breaths. Would he share the details of his distress?

Kathryn was out of her depth here, and painfully aware of it. His uncharacteristic loquaciousness and the way he'd seemed kind of charged earlier seemed more significant now. If he was having some sort of delayed stress reaction, he should seek professional help. But she knew him, and how unlikely it was that he would. Perhaps that was why he'd invited her? Perhaps he'd rather talk to her? That might well be the case, but she couldn't deny it was both strange and uncomfortable to see breaking in front of her the man who'd been her rock for seven years. She attempted to put her own discomfort to one side.

"Do you feel shaken? And a little guilty perhaps?" she ventured carefully.

"That I wasn't here? Of course, but that's faded a little over the years. Now, I mostly feel indescribably sad, and just now, remembering people, so many people, I started to feel that… rage… start to grip me again. It's...it's hard to explain."

"You're explaining it just fine."

For some reason, this reply seemed to act as the kiss of death to his ability to verbalise.

They sat in silence again for several minutes.

He seemed to be studying his hands resting in his lap. Would he prefer to be left alone now, to finish his night time routines?

Finally he spoke, his soft voice dropping in pitch.

"I did things."

She turned her face towards him and studied his downcast profile, determined not to betray the anxiety she suddenly felt. Was it was anxiety for herself or for him? "Do you want to tell me about those... things?"

Eyes still focussing down, he seemed to gather himself for a moment, before she caught his low response. "No."

"Then don't," she stated immediately, the words out of her mouth before she took in their significance.

He turned his head towards her, obvious tension in his face as he forced himself to meet her eyes. "Don't you want to know?"

Her response was clearly incredibly important to him and she felt the full weight and responsibility of this unwelcome dynamic. "Not if you don't want to tell me. No. I don't need to know. It wouldn't change anything I think about you."

As he continued to look at her, his brow unknotted and several tears spilled over his cheeks, as if of their own volition. He looked as if her response had taken him so much by surprise, that all of his attention had switched to focus on the significance of her words, and as a result he'd simply forgotten to continue holding his body's physical reaction to his distress in check.

"What about how you feel? Would it change that?" he asked, still seemingly oblivious to the tears silently leaking out.

"No, it wouldn't."

"Are you sure of that?"

"Yes. I'm sure."

Several seconds passed and just when she was about to speak, he continued. "I know it should be enough, you saying that, but I guess it's hard to believe you, because you don't know what it is you're dismissing."

Kathryn took a measured breath, suddenly aware of how still she was holding herself.

"I didn't feel remorse," he went on. "I wasn't interested in feeling anything then. It wasn't some noble crusade. There was nothing romantic about our existence. Sometimes there were...just shades of grey."

She bit back her immediate response, which was to say she understood, because did she? Really?

What was disconcerting was that he wasn't that far off the mark. When she thought of his time in the Maquis, she did think of him as fighting the noble cause, defending the vulnerable who were unable to defend themselves. Now, she considered that while all that might well be true, it didn't describe the entirety of his experiences. She was more comfortable thinking of him as a victim of injustice who fought back with righteous indignation. Perhaps she wasn't comfortable with the darker side of the conflict where there were only shades of grey? It's one thing to use an expression like that, but quite another to have lived the experiences it conceals.

"I still don't. Feel remorse I mean. Not really. What sort of man does that make me?"

She weighed her next words very carefully. "We both know I can't grant you absolution, or even really say I understand everything you did, but you have to believe me when I say I accept it. I can accept everything that's a part of you. I already have. I just want to be sure you know that."

The fact they'd made it back had gone some way to lessen the impact of the one decision that had tormented Kathryn for seven years; she knew she needed to start to work on finally letting go of more of that guilt. But things were very different for Chakotay. It seemed his guilt had been waiting for him here, to ambush him.

She wondered how it would impact on the identity he had been carefully constructing for himself since their return to the Alpha Quadrant. These first few weeks back had already shown her that it would be hard for him to find much continuity, as he tried to integrate the radically divergent periods of his life into a consistent sense of self. She wondered now just how many more times he could reinvent himself. Would this be the fourth? Hardly surprising then, that he should be floundering here, now.

"But you believed then that everything you had to do was justified?"

A pause, then, "No."

She swallowed, maintaining eye contact.

Eventually he continued, looking away from her and down at his hands again. "There were times when part of me knew I should've stopped short of… but not a big enough part."

Kathryn reached across and took his right hand and held it between hers. He needed to be here in the present with her. Not back there in his head. "That was over seven years ago now, Chakotay. You are no longer that man, and perhaps you can't make peace with everything you once were or did, but I do believe you should forgive yourself and allow yourself to leave it in the past where it belongs. Don't you?"

"Yes I do. But today has been... Before you came in. I was back there. And I didn't feel like I've moved on."

Perhaps a part of him had been crushed by the weight of the realisation that if it came down to it, he believed he would do most of those things again. A realisation that seemed to have left him wretchedly disappointed in himself.

The weight of his hand in hers, the feel of his warm skin was reassuring. But he seemed to be somewhere else still. Her fingers gently stroked the back of his hand, trying again to bring him back.

"Just because you've changed or moved on in some ways doesn't mean that you wouldn't still feel a connection to the man you were before. There has to be some continuity, Chakotay, that's a  _good_ thing, surely? You had good reasons for the things you did, and if there were moments of... excess, then they were understandable, even if they weren't always entirely justified. You weren't a saint on a crusade, you just told me that. It was a war."

"But I knew how unlikely it was we'd succeed. That's what's hard. Part of me knew, but I ignored that part. When I resigned my commission, I wasn't naive, Kathryn. I was well aware of my own insignificance to an organisation that size. I was old enough and wise enough to know it wouldn't make a difference. But I did it anyway. And in some ways it was the same in the Maquis. I wanted revenge, and there were enough people ready to follow, who had faith, who believed we'd make a difference."

"But you believed that too, surely?" Did he have any idea how much the ground had already shifted beneath her feet today? How many more unexpected revelations could she cope with? But he seemed determined to share with her so she steeled herself for his reply.

"Yes, I did; or I wouldn't have been able to function."

She tried to distract him from sensing her relief on hearing this by tracing lines with her fingers across the back of the hand she was still holding.

He went on. "But what's surprising is that as well as holding that belief, in good faith, I also understood the situation from a purely tactical perspective. I also knew that we were doomed from the beginning. But I couldn't see another path then. Some days it was a matter of how much havoc we could wreak, and how many Cardassians I could take with me. I had nothing left to lose. I risked my own life, and I don't feel guilty for that, just lucky I survived; but I also risked the lives of others. It's hard to make sense of it all... I can only find the feelings here now, not the thinking behind what I did then."

"Well, perhaps that has to be enough, for now at least?"

He didn't seem to register her interjection and carried on. "I can't imagine how they kept going – what they told themselves – once the Dominion and the Jem'Hadar joined the Cardassians. It was hard enough before. Having the moral high ground is little consolation when your people are being picked off one by one. The end must have been terrifying. Hopeless."

There was no point in trying to counter that with platitudes. They sat silently again for a few minutes.

Then she squeezed his hand firmly. "Is there a fund, for the Maquis who survived - those who weren't on the base at the time – for their families?"

Finally he looked up. "Yes, Sveta and the others started one. I organised donations a few weeks ago when I first saw her."

"That's good. I'll make a donation when we get back. You should ask  _all_ the crew, Chakotay. I'm surprised you didn't."

"Yes, I intended to give out the details to everyone, I just hadn't gotten around to it."

He seemed calmer now, and was breathing normally at least. After a few more minutes she was ready to tell him what had been at the back of her mind when they had returned from the moon's surface earlier.

"I wish I had done more to influence Starfleet's thinking about this conflict  _before_ all this was allowed to happen."

"You? Why?"

"It was all preventable, we both know that. Starfleet  _chose_  not to intervene."

He sighed and shook his head slightly. "Kathryn, you bear no responsibly for any of this. There's no way you can make this something you personally should feel guilty for. You need to resist that impulse. There's no sense in it."

It was so strange that he, of all people, still seemed to believe that she had always made moral decisions, when he knew for a fact that she was quite capable of drastically misjudging things. Faith. He still had faith in her.

"Perhaps," she said slowly. "How about I agree to try not to feel guilty I didn't involve myself, and you agree to forgive yourself for the some of the things you found yourself doing?"

She held her breath, as her question hung between them.

He cocked his head to the side to look at her. "Agreed. We try."

For a moment, what she could see in his eyes and the small smile he'd managed were reassuring; but that reassurance soon transmuted into something else, as she realised he was now fully back in the room with her and they had both become acutely aware of her fingers caressing the back of his hand.  _Caressing_.

She stilled their movement, returning to simply holding his hand between hers again. "How about a nightcap?" she redirected. "Do you think you could stomach one now?"

"Well, there's one way to find out. Come on." He stood slowly and she stood with him, letting go of his hand.

With only a tiny space between them as they stood, side by side in the little cabin, he finally seemed to become aware of his state of undress. He immediately reached up to an overhead locker for a t-shirt and pulled it on in one swift movement. She edged past as he did this, looking anywhere but at him. There was no space here that his physical presence didn't fill. He was a big man and this was a tiny cabin; there was no space that wasn't infused with his familiar scent. It was having an effect on Kathryn that she knew Chakotay was completely oblivious to, and that felt completely wrong right now. She needed to retreat to more neutral terrain where the sorts of images she was trying not to allow to form in her imagination could be more easily repressed.

In the little kitchen, they stood side by side again, leaning against the worktop, and he got out the glasses and poured them both a shot of whisky. As Kathryn accepted the small glass, she noticed his hand was still shaking very slightly.

They clinked their glasses and drank, and managed a few minutes talk about their plans for the final two days of their trip. He mentioned that Sveta would rendezvous with them tomorrow evening for a short time, as she was taking a group of visitors to the monument, and she'd suggested they catch up where their flight paths crossed.

Whilst he had been speaking Kathryn had been watching him carefully. He was fighting exhaustion. He soon fell silent again.

"It's late, we should get some sleep," she said. He turned his head slightly to look her full in the face.

"Kathryn..."

It seemed like a question but nothing followed. She held his gaze, his expression unreadable.

"What is it?"

He put down his drink. "Can I… I mean… can I hold you? I just…"

As he spoke, something flickered through his dark eyes that made her wonder if this question had caught him as much by surprise as it had her.

"Of course." Without hesitation, she put down her glass and moved to stand directly in front of him.

He reached for her and pulled her gently to him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. Her arms slid around his middle and her hands felt the warm contours of the muscles of his broad back through his t-shirt. The side of her face came to rest against his neck and she felt him tuck her head under his chin. His face turned down to press into her hair.

As she relaxed into his arms a little, she felt him inhale and exhale steadily several times and eventually, as he pulled her closer still, the slight trembling she'd perceived in the muscles in his thighs stilled. Despite this, there was still such a tension to his embrace. She could feel his heartbeat, strong and perhaps still a little accelerated. She'd hugged him briefly once or twice before, but they'd only ever been this close for this long once before; it'd been a very different, but similarly intense moment.

She shifted slightly, turning her face up towards him. His eyes were closed. He seemed to have clamped himself around her somehow, a hint of desperation in the force of his hold.

"I might need to breathe in a minute here…. You can relax you know, I'm not going anywhere," she said gently.

"'m sorry." He mumbled into her hair and his arms loosened slightly around her. "Better?"

"Yes, much better." She looked up again. His eyes were still closed. She began to feel his warmth heating her up.

"Thank you, Kathryn. For coming here with me. For… this."

"You're welcome. I'm glad you asked me to come."

Wrapped up in his arms she closed her eyes and let her body mould itself a little more to his. Surrounded by his warmth, she listened to the sound of his heartbeat, steadier now, strong and comforting. He was silent for so long that she began to wonder if exhaustion had finally caught up with him and he was starting to drift off right there.

Then his low voice surprised her. "I don't want to lose the man I've become by your side. Right now I'm not sure I can be that man without you….and…and that's not how I want to feel."

His admission sliced through her. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had been that honest with her. "That won't happen."

"What won't happen?"

"You wouldn't lose the man you've become." She surprised herself by how confident her reply sounded.

"I don't know what I want anymore."

She could hear in his voice that exhaustion was now slowly claiming him, and the weight of his arms around her shoulders seemed to have increased a little.

Her confidence ebbed. She reminded herself he wasn't talking about wanting  _her_. She was struck again by how different their experience of coming here had been. He was so exhausted by it all he could barely hold back sleep; she was completely wide awake now, her mind still reeling with the implications of everything he'd told her tonight.

If she had felt more confident about what he wanted from her now, she would have led him back to his cabin and climbed into bed with him, if only to continue holding him. But what if she just became another problem he had to deal with?

When the time felt right, she wanted to be free to express without restraint everything she felt for him - to finally approach him as a responsive and giving lover, not as a carefully controlled friend.

"We can't stay standing here all night, you know. You need to sleep now. We both do."

Eventually he responded, kissing her hair as he released her. "Sleep well, Kathryn."

She reached up on tiptoe to place the gentlest of kisses on his lips. "Goodnight, Chakotay."

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first three chapters of this story have been on ffn since Feb 2014 and I marked it as 'complete', even though a half-finished Chapter four has been lying neglected on my hard drive all that time, craving attention. I have finally answered its call and finished it. Big thank you to northernexposure and Photogirl1890 for the beta read and typo check.
> 
> This chapter probably works best for readers who've read 'Pathways' by Jeri Taylor and have met Sveta in Chakotay's backstory there, but hopefully it's still intelligible for those who haven't.

Day 4 of Trip to Tevlik's Moon: 21.00hrs 

Chakotay called over to the ship off the Alpha Flyer's port bow. "We're ready for you."

The shimmering outline of a figure began to materialise in the small space between the fixed table and the kitchen area. Kathryn and Chakotay had moved to stand just inside the door to this section of the little vessel, to make room for the visitor. The low reverberating sound of the non-Starfleet transporter caught Kathryn off guard for a moment, sparking a tiny flicker of tension down her spine.

Quickly, the molecules arranged themselves into the tall form of a striking woman with almost translucent skin and long white hair; a woman Kathryn had seen once before, but only from a distance across a crowded ballroom.

Sveta stood still for a moment, taking in her surroundings. It was impossible not to be struck by her serene, otherworldly beauty. She was long-limbed and slender. Kathryn suddenly felt like a small brown duck, looking up at a great white egret.

From the fine lines around her eyes and mouth, Kathryn guessed that Sveta was probably a little older than Chakotay – considerably older than Kathryn had presumed before. Although she was extremely slim, she was graceful rather than gaunt, and she was dressed in a simple sleeveless tunic of gunmetal grey, darker grey pants and supple leather boots. As she tilted her head slightly, the light caught on a silken ripple that moved through the pearly strands of her waist length hair. Hair that was truly extraordinary. It was the colour of milk, and the way the light moved over it suggested a texture and a healthy gloss that was usually only seen in the young.

Chakotay said hello and Kathryn smiled.

Kathryn was dwarfed by Sveta, but it wasn't her height that was disconcerting. As her impossibly pale grey eyes travelled over Kathryn's face, the younger woman felt irrationally violated. It was as if the newcomer could effortlessly bypass Kathryn's usually formidable defences and, uninvited, examine what lay within.

Her welcoming smile firmly in place, Kathryn tried to resist the reflexive tightening of her jaw.

Chakotay moved towards his friend.

Sveta's face melted into a warm smile. "Chakotay." She hardened the vowels and clipped the consonants of his name, reminiscent of the way B'Elanna pronounced it.

Then Sveta took Chakotay's face in her hands, and kissed him full on the lips. When she pulled back, her long white fingers lingered on his cheeks for a moment.

"Welcome aboard my little ship," he said, giving her shoulders a squeeze. He turned as they released each other. "I'd like you to meet my first officer, Kathryn Janeway."

Sveta's eyes moved to Kathryn and she nodded.

"I hope your trip has gone well so far," Kathryn offered politely.

"It has, thank you." Sveta replied. Then she turned back to Chakotay. "Among the party are those who wait to see you. Roberto's father has come, with Roberto's son. The boy is soon to bed. They wait for you now."

"Stay here and keep Kathryn company?"

Sveta nodded.

Chakotay's eyes were lively as he turned back to Kathryn. "Sveta is the only person I know who drinks more coffee than you do. Just keep her cup topped up and you can't go wrong. I won't be long."

"Aye, aye Captain." Kathryn half-smiled as she regrouped. She hadn't anticipated being left alone with this woman, but the quicker she established some sort of rapport with her the better. It was clear Sveta was important to Chakotay.

As soon as Chakotay dematerialised, Kathryn manoeuvred herself carefully past Sveta with a good-natured 'excuse me' to get to the worktop for the coffee.

Sveta remained standing in the small space beside the table.

"You are the first Starfleet official to visit our monument, Admiral."

Kathryn turned. "Please, call me Kathryn," she replied, with a small smile. Sveta held Kathryn's gaze and blinked. Kathryn's attention was drawn to the older woman's eyelashes. They were so pale they were almost white. Kathryn recovered herself. "I wasn't visiting the monument in an official capacity."

The older woman said nothing, but continued to stand tall, perfectly poised and apparently relaxed.

"Have a seat," Kathryn invited, setting down the coffee pot and cups. Sveta accepted and the two women sat down opposite one another, the small table incapable of establishing enough distance between them for Kathryn to feel comfortable. Her hand strayed to her temple. A headache wasn't far away.

"I know Chakotay was close to Roberto. I'm sure he will be pleased to see his family again," Kathryn began pleasantly.

"He has never met Roberto's son. He was born after the  _Val Jean_  disappeared, only a few months before the massacre. Chakotay will meet him now for the first time."

"Oh. I see."

Sveta's accent was puzzling. Was it Scandinavian, or Russian perhaps? Kathryn kept thinking of Iceland, despite the fact she wasn't sure she would actually recognise an Icelandic accent…

"Chakotay has missed much in the lives of his friends these past years," Sveta remarked. "And, as you know, many died. I can see the return to us has shaken him. But now he will be among friends again, he will find himself once more."

Surprised by these frank remarks, Kathryn's brain stalled momentarily as she struggled to follow Sveta's sudden jump to warp.

"We all felt the loss of the friends and loved-ones we left behind, but we also found friendship on  _Voyager_  and we became a family. No one worked harder to make that happen than Chakotay."

Sveta's lips tugged as if in amusement, but she held Kathryn's gaze in silence.

"When  _Voyager_  returned, I imagine you must have been very pleased to see him and his crew again," Kathryn went on. "I know a lot of people didn't think we'd make it back."

"In the Maquis, we worked in small cells, so I did not know all of the other fighters on your ship personally. But yes, I was very happy. And I always believed I would see Chakotay again. To see him again is to feast after fasting."

Sveta paused and sipped her coffee. Kathryn did the same, marvelling at how good it still was to savour the first sip of each cup of real coffee even after seven weeks of being back in range of an unlimited supply.

"I had hoped to see more of him these past few weeks," Sveta continued. "I was on Earth. I asked him to come with me to the monument, but he said he already had plans. I see now that you were his plans."

Averting her gaze from Sveta's grey eyes, Kathryn felt a sting like the cold burn of skin left a fraction too long on an icy surface.

"What are you doing here, Kathryn?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean." Kathryn bristled.

Sveta arched one pale eyebrow. "Any fool can see he's in love with you. And nothing that I have heard of you leads me to believe that you are a fool."

Kathryn was stunned into silence. Sveta had observed her and Chakotay together for less than five minutes before he'd beamed away, so her statement seemed truly extraordinary. Had she been watching them together at the homecoming banquet? Even so-

"Are you waiting for Chakotay to claim you? To get down on one knee?" Sveta pressed on, her tone suggesting an infuriating hint of amusement. "I wonder how well you know him if you wait for such a moment. You may wait a long time."

Kathryn looked down into the dark brown swirls of her coffee, trying to think past the throbbing in her head and close this line of questioning down immediately without causing offence, but Sveta was already speaking again.

"Do you demand he say out-loud what is there for all to see in his face already, while your own remains closed? Or are you weighing your options, waiting for a better offer?"

Kathryn looked up, incensed. "I don't know what you think you know about me, but it would be in both of our best interests for you to stop right there." The steel in her voice came unbidden from somewhere deep within.

"I disagree. You cannot order me to ignore my instincts. Your rank does not intimidate me."

"So I see," Kathryn gritted, despite her better judgement.

"I ask because you make me fearful for him," the older woman went on calmly, evidently undeterred. "You are surely strong enough to take what you want, And yet you wait. If you don't want him, then tell him and move out of the way for someone who knows what he needs. Don't humiliate him. At times I see what's ahead of Chakotay before he does. Perhaps you walk a step ahead of him too in some things. It is a powerful position to be in, no?"

Kathryn inhaled deeply, focussing on her drink to avoid glaring at her interlocutor. "I'd rather not discuss Chakotay. Shall we talk about something else? I think that'd be best." She met Sveta's gaze, knowing her question had come out more like an order again, but not feeling inclined to apologise.

She would not be explaining herself to this woman, however good a friend of Chakotay's she might be. If Sveta had already cast Kathryn as the sort of woman likely to play with a good man's heart, then so be it. It was unlikely anything she could say would change her mind.

Kathryn felts the visitor's pale eyes linger on her face once more, then the older woman stood and moved to the centre of the tiny living space. "Perhaps I will take a tour of Chakotay's ship."

"Be my guest," Kathryn replied wryly. "It won't take long." Because there really wasn't much to see.

From the living area you could go left into the forward section to the small cockpit, or right, past the doors to the two cabins and take the steps down to the cargo hold in the aft section. Sveta turned right.

Kathryn closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

XxX

Chakotay was true to his word, beaming back only a few minutes later. By then, Sveta had just returned to the living area, and was silently refilling her coffee cup.

As soon as he reappeared, Kathryn stood.

"I'll leave you two to catch up." She offered Chakotay a small smile and slipped out.

The moment she was out of sight, Kathryn inhaled deeply and sagged against the wall of the corridor. Then, just as she began to move towards her cabin door, she heard Sveta speak.

" _What is she to you, Chakotay?"_

Kathryn stopped. Her feet refused to take her any further. She shouldn't be listening, but she already was – although there was no reply to be heard, only the faint noises of Chakotay preparing himself a drink.

" _Be careful_ ," the older woman went on.

" _You don't need to worry about me, Sveta,"_  Kathryn finally heard Chakotay answer.

" _She needed you out there – anyone can see that. But here, now? She'll slot back into the polished brass life she left behind. And would someone like you ever really fit into that? Those people have their prejudices. To them you will always be an oddity."_

Again Chakotay didn't say anything. Kathryn pictured him leaning against the counter, head dipped no doubt, avoiding his friend's probing eyes just as Kathryn had.

" _I have heard them_." Sveta went on, her tone amused. " _What is that saying they have? 'You can take the boy out of the colony; you can take the man out of the Maquis, but…'"_

Chakotay chuckled.  _"Maybe they're right. But haven't you forgotten one? 'You can take the man out of Starfleet…' I spent twenty years working my way up through that organisation. It's where we met, remember?"_

" _And then you resigned. For good reason. Those people will never really accept you as one of them. You will never be trusted as she is. Even she will never trust you as she trusts her own."_

Kathryn balled a fist, fingernails digging deep into her flesh.

" _You don't know her."_

" _I know those like her."_

" _Now whose prejudices are clouding their judgement?"_

" _She is a rising Starfleet star. She rubs shoulders with the same admirals who share the blame for our annihilation and who chose to lock us up. And you do not come with the sorts of connections her inner circle will easily embrace. Unless, of course, you are content for your tribe, your people and their 'backward' ways to serve as titillating fodder for the after-dinner conversations of decrepit admirals and their derelict wives."_

Kathryn heard Chakotay laugh at this, and reassured by his levity, her fist unclenched a little, sparing the skin of her poor hand further indentations.

" _It really is good to see you, Sveta."_ He chuckled _. "You haven't changed."_

" _And you have."_

" _Yes. And this is my fault. I should have introduced you to Kathryn before now. If I had, you wouldn't be worrying like this. Kathryn's no ordinary admiral."_

" _You still wear your heart on your sleeve, Chakotay. And I fear for you. She is not like you."_

" _You're right, she isn't. But I'm not afraid of our differences."_

" _You're a romantic, Chakotay."_

" _Now you're starting to sound like my father."_ He chuckled again.

Sveta's laugh took Kathryn by surprise. It rang out hearty and loud, as if the sound emanated from deep in her belly.

" _Kolopak was a wise man,_ " Sveta replied.

" _He was."_

" _But can you deny that you were about to say that you see your differences as a strength, or some such romantic conceit?"_

Chakotay laughed again. _"No. I can't. Because you're right. I do see them as making us stronger. And you don't, because you've only seen a tiny fraction of the whole picture."_

" _I don't doubt she is a fascinating woman. And you are grateful to her, as, by all accounts she was an excellent captain."_

" _Kathryn was always more to me than just my captain out there. We were friends – we still are – and, well... I hope, soon, maybe we could be… more. But whatever happens now, she'll always have my loyalty and my respect."_

" _Then she is a lucky woman, my friend."_

" _Next time we meet, remind me to quiz you about your personal life."_

" _Will you choose to stay in Starfleet?"_ Sveta went on, as if he hadn't spoken.

" _I don't know. Maybe."_

" _You will stay on Earth?"_

" _I don't know that either. But you're just going to have to believe me when I say that you don't need to worry about me."_

" _I make up my own mind, Chakotay."_

" _Of course. And now, how about you tell me about what you've been up to since we last met? I'd love to hear your news and we don't have much time. You'll have to get back to your passengers before too long, or they'll start to think you've abandoned them and jumped ship."_

Finally convincing her treacherous feet to carry her into her cabin and out of earshot, Kathryn smiled to herself. It may very well have been the last thing Sveta intended, but she had actually given Kathryn a wonderful gift.

Hope.

[The End]

This timeline continues in [A Whole lot of nothing](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9907136/1/A-Whole-lot-of-Nothing).

And if you liked Sveta, she features quite a bit in several chapters of [The Only Constant](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11949972/1/The-Only-Constant) 

 


End file.
